MPC 51A: Left The Devil With The Details
Jun 29, 2018 12:14:50 GMT
Post by Sho Tsuginaga on Jun 29, 2018 12:14:50 GMT
MPC Title: Aaaand Scene!
MPC Number: 51A
Reward Requested: Posts.
It stands behind that very door. The one that opened to the echo of morning greetings and closed in the advent of its own hollow farewell. The one you watched him through, your digits resting atop the thin glass pane with such weight you were sure you'd slip through right into the tendrils of broken black branches that they moved before your eyes. Never broken. Never failed. Sure protection, yet mere inches away from doom.
Outside of this very door, you hide and wither.
Yet all these things are true. Golden as the sepia glimmer that enlightens your foretold tomb. Feet planted in matted grass, and hands taught as dry leather against the revolver's single task. The trigger, illuminated in your lens' rot orange flicker, aiming in desolate and dreaded silence at not a single man's murmur. Instead, it finds the creaking howl of the hinges, against your very ears it lingers and pinches.
Too late, you fear, too hesitant the stroke, for your dead eyes to find the monster's coat. The door reveals not even a glance at the grim lycanthrope. Before you lies maniac, murderer, and malady extraordinaire. The wood rips away and reveals that black stare, one pull of the finger can end it right there. Not a motion made and yet the deed seems to be done with so much less melodrama.
Took him only two seconds to see that the set returned, scene over. Abracadabra.
"That's absolutely priceless! Hell, man, don't look so cold when you point that thing at me!" Came the lurid guffawing and giggling from behind the door. Given by the ever nameless face that took off that mask of prickly multicolor hair that showed the wear and age of at least half an hour ago. The clean-cut kid underneath only shared a resemblance in spirit. "You're going to make me bust a gut instead of howling at that tiny face of yours."
Sho took the hearty knock in the shoulder from him with a weaker chuckle as he dropped the dingy mold of aluminum and ripped off the itchy pencil mustache so easily taped under his nose. He made a shiver with his mouth as he frantically rubbed his arm. "I'm only a replacement. At least you won't be laughing for long." Sho spoke in a bland murmur, feeling quite sleepy after memorizing some scaredy-cat's stage directions and cowardly words for an afternoon.
"That other kid did your part for one day, he's your replacement. Plus focusing on this stuff makes me dizzy. I barely do anything. I'm practically your dog in this stupid play!" They pushed up their glasses and sat at the edge of the stage with Sho, holding the script out in front of them with weak abandon.
"You sure do laugh like one. I'm amazed this guy is even afraid of a candy-colored dog. I mean, who writes this stuff?" No matter who was beside him, this seemed like the right thing to say. The guy seemed like enough of a doofus to accept half-genuine criticism. Plus there was some truth to how ridiculous standing up there in his school uniform was while everyone else was in a costume. It just took the moving of a sheet to show that everyone else didn't exactly apply in this scenario.
Especially because Momoko was put right in the only spot of orange light that wasn't insufferable in the afternoon. Pity to see only her scoffing and a glare while she sat back in the folding chair she'd left only to destroy the exhausting atmosphere and lighting.
"I wrote it, you numbskulls. And from where I'm sitting you're following that crappy script of mine to the letter." Momoko chided while shadows of birds passed by her visage.
"Why're you acting like you could write something better? What do you-" The boy's complaints were stymied by Sho's own feeble elbow in his side.
"She could...It's just the stupid school festival, might as well make the goofiest thing possible." Sho resigned to his sleepiness and growing apathy, yet the boy next to him held determination in his annoyance right down to his snicker.
"Okay...I've got it. And she can already do a lot more than this can't she." He broke into a snide chuckle that slowly spread into the mostly empty room before he got up again and went past Momoko towards the door while she weakly kicked at his ankle.
"See you tomorrow...Damn it. Forgot your name."
"Kida, supposed master writer. You wrote it in the cast didn't you?" He scoffed, leaving them to their own scenes for the rest of the afternoon they had together. The afternoon only ripened without his presence. Sho couldn't remember a time when it wouldn't. Momoko stood up as well, collecting her things and moved over towards Sho as he lay upon the stage, motioning him to follow her, which he would do ever certain and without fail.
"Why d'you think you need to prove yourself to people every chance you get" Momoko blithely questioned as the left the halls of the school and began to walk home with Sho in tow, as always. An always she hoped would never disappear.
"Why do you indulge me every time?" Sho joked, not even considering the idea of weight behind her words.
"Don't just read into me-" Momoko continued, her voice receding as Sho began to chuckle and scoff louder.
"You do the same thing! It's pure hypocrisy whenever I talk to you, I swear..." Sho chuckled along, unable to find the grin forming along Momoko's face as their paths began to split.
"Fine then. You've got me. Then I'll tell you the truth; You just like working for me." Momoko's words produced a good old-fashioned silence in Sho as she turned around. "If you ever want to work for something other than the respect you might get from our teachers, then please, let me indulge you." Momoko waved goodbye as Sho was left there on the sidewalk, still unable to take her sensibilities seriously.
His own trip home was interrupted by the vibration in his pocket. Another message he could never ignore.
Update: She is stable
Sho wanted to expect worse news going to his house. But for now, he was left with something greater. A new grin that he wanted to get all the more used to.
MPC Number: 51A
Reward Requested: Posts.
It stands behind that very door. The one that opened to the echo of morning greetings and closed in the advent of its own hollow farewell. The one you watched him through, your digits resting atop the thin glass pane with such weight you were sure you'd slip through right into the tendrils of broken black branches that they moved before your eyes. Never broken. Never failed. Sure protection, yet mere inches away from doom.
Outside of this very door, you hide and wither.
Yet all these things are true. Golden as the sepia glimmer that enlightens your foretold tomb. Feet planted in matted grass, and hands taught as dry leather against the revolver's single task. The trigger, illuminated in your lens' rot orange flicker, aiming in desolate and dreaded silence at not a single man's murmur. Instead, it finds the creaking howl of the hinges, against your very ears it lingers and pinches.
Too late, you fear, too hesitant the stroke, for your dead eyes to find the monster's coat. The door reveals not even a glance at the grim lycanthrope. Before you lies maniac, murderer, and malady extraordinaire. The wood rips away and reveals that black stare, one pull of the finger can end it right there. Not a motion made and yet the deed seems to be done with so much less melodrama.
Took him only two seconds to see that the set returned, scene over. Abracadabra.
"That's absolutely priceless! Hell, man, don't look so cold when you point that thing at me!" Came the lurid guffawing and giggling from behind the door. Given by the ever nameless face that took off that mask of prickly multicolor hair that showed the wear and age of at least half an hour ago. The clean-cut kid underneath only shared a resemblance in spirit. "You're going to make me bust a gut instead of howling at that tiny face of yours."
Sho took the hearty knock in the shoulder from him with a weaker chuckle as he dropped the dingy mold of aluminum and ripped off the itchy pencil mustache so easily taped under his nose. He made a shiver with his mouth as he frantically rubbed his arm. "I'm only a replacement. At least you won't be laughing for long." Sho spoke in a bland murmur, feeling quite sleepy after memorizing some scaredy-cat's stage directions and cowardly words for an afternoon.
"That other kid did your part for one day, he's your replacement. Plus focusing on this stuff makes me dizzy. I barely do anything. I'm practically your dog in this stupid play!" They pushed up their glasses and sat at the edge of the stage with Sho, holding the script out in front of them with weak abandon.
"You sure do laugh like one. I'm amazed this guy is even afraid of a candy-colored dog. I mean, who writes this stuff?" No matter who was beside him, this seemed like the right thing to say. The guy seemed like enough of a doofus to accept half-genuine criticism. Plus there was some truth to how ridiculous standing up there in his school uniform was while everyone else was in a costume. It just took the moving of a sheet to show that everyone else didn't exactly apply in this scenario.
Especially because Momoko was put right in the only spot of orange light that wasn't insufferable in the afternoon. Pity to see only her scoffing and a glare while she sat back in the folding chair she'd left only to destroy the exhausting atmosphere and lighting.
"I wrote it, you numbskulls. And from where I'm sitting you're following that crappy script of mine to the letter." Momoko chided while shadows of birds passed by her visage.
"Why're you acting like you could write something better? What do you-" The boy's complaints were stymied by Sho's own feeble elbow in his side.
"She could...It's just the stupid school festival, might as well make the goofiest thing possible." Sho resigned to his sleepiness and growing apathy, yet the boy next to him held determination in his annoyance right down to his snicker.
"Okay...I've got it. And she can already do a lot more than this can't she." He broke into a snide chuckle that slowly spread into the mostly empty room before he got up again and went past Momoko towards the door while she weakly kicked at his ankle.
"See you tomorrow...Damn it. Forgot your name."
"
"Why d'you think you need to prove yourself to people every chance you get" Momoko blithely questioned as the left the halls of the school and began to walk home with Sho in tow, as always. An always she hoped would never disappear.
"Why do you indulge me every time?" Sho joked, not even considering the idea of weight behind her words.
"Don't just read into me-" Momoko continued, her voice receding as Sho began to chuckle and scoff louder.
"You do the same thing! It's pure hypocrisy whenever I talk to you, I swear..." Sho chuckled along, unable to find the grin forming along Momoko's face as their paths began to split.
"Fine then. You've got me. Then I'll tell you the truth; You just like working for me." Momoko's words produced a good old-fashioned silence in Sho as she turned around. "If you ever want to work for something other than the respect you might get from our teachers, then please, let me indulge you." Momoko waved goodbye as Sho was left there on the sidewalk, still unable to take her sensibilities seriously.
His own trip home was interrupted by the vibration in his pocket. Another message he could never ignore.
Update: She is stable
Sho wanted to expect worse news going to his house. But for now, he was left with something greater. A new grin that he wanted to get all the more used to.
